Written in Ice
by The Midnight Avenger
Summary: It's odd really, how much two people can change each other.


When he left the workshop that night, he felt warmer than he had in a long time. He was practically glowing. The others could tell; it was hard to fool beings who had been around since the Dark Ages. That's why they let him leave in the first place. After all, they all had some underling or another, while he had nobody. They didn't realize the gravity of his future actions.

So he rode the wind, faster than he thought possible, until the glimmering peaks of the castle came into view. His heart leaped a little in his chest. He felt as if he could touch the moon, with all the warmth he had inside him. He could have exploded with it. He might have. Being the king of frost, he was quite unused to the feeling; usually he kept cold.

For him, getting inside the castle was easy. You would be surprised at how many windows get left open by feather-brained servants. Finding the right room was a bit trickier. It took quite a few close calls for him to remember that other people could see him. But then, castles have plenty of handy nooks and crannies for an lightweight like himself to slip into.

After a number of wrong guesses, he got lucky and made the right guess. There she was, wrapped in a blanket and flocked by well-meaning nurses. The room she was in was elephantine, which he couldn't find the meaning of since her cradle was the only thing in it. Nevertheless, he slipped inside and hid in a crevice in the wall until the gaggle of nurses left.

A grin nearly split his cheeks when he saw her face, lax and peaceful in sleep. He couldn't help himself; he reached out and gently stroked her cheek. Her skin was like silk under his rough fingers. She shivered and sneezed softly, and he drew his hand back in horror. He had forgotten - no matter how warm he felt, he was still cold.

It was not all bad though. The chill had woken her up, and she blinked at him with her round blue eyes. They reminded him of the streams that start in the mountains and run cool and clear over the rocks. Untarnished, just like her. A tremor passed through him. She would be a stunning young lady, he could already tell.

She reached out to touch him, her hands and arms round and fat. He nearly reached for her as well. Then he remembered, just in time. But the temptation - oh, the temptation! - he wanted nothing more than sweep her up in his arms and whisk her away over the mountains. He had to resist though. She had to grow up first.

Instead, her made her a pony out of his frost, made it prance about her head until she nearly screamed with delight. Then, he made her an elephant, half out of mockery of her massive bedroom. It flapped its large ears and curled its trunk, lumbering above her crib. He wanted to whoop with pleasure at the joy on her round face.

Next, he made her fireworks, which flew over her cradle to burst into glittering drops of ice. Her eyes grew and sparkled, his frosty fireworks reflected in the blue depths. Blue like the color of melting ice and morning frost. Suddenly he heard footsteps outside. Royal feet cushioned with slippers padded down the hallway, eager to see her. He cursed under his breath.

Agony tore his heart at the though of leaving, but there was one thing he could do that would seal their bond forever. Did he dare? The royal feet were drawing closer. They would likely arrest him: he, some stranger who had crept into the castle and tampered with her. He couldn't get arrested. He did dare.

Gazing into her round, beautiful face, he knew she would thank him later. He did not consider how he would contact her in the future. Her upbringing would likely force her to forget him, but he didn't care. She would know; she had to know. Just above her head he made an over-sized snowflake; his final token. It was beautiful, but more importantly, it was memorable.

The snowflake made of frost gently drifted down to her. Eagerly she reached out her chubby hands, squealing with delight as it landed on her chest and dissolved. Immediately her eyes dropped shut, and a pale blue light shone from the spot just over her heart. Smiling, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to her forehead, then her eyelids.

Already the magic was taking its course, but it was weak. The blue glow faltered, and he realized that it wouldn't take full effect unless it was cold. He scurried to the window and flung it wide open, and cold wind blustering into the room. He slammed the end of his crooked staff on the floor, and tendrils of frost and ice shot across the floor and walls, unable to melt until the magic was complete.

He rushed over to her crib. The blue glow intensified, and the symbol of a snowflake appeared on her forehead, then promptly disappeared. A grin broke his cheeks again, and the overwhelming warmth returned. With a jolt he realized that the royal feet had stopped; now their bejeweled hands were on the knob, ready to turn.

Haste dominating his thoughts, he took up one of her hands and tenderly kissed her palm. Careful to cover the pale glow over her heart with the heap of blankets, he rushed to to the window. The ornate doorknob turned. He stopped himself in his escape long enough to look back over his shoulder at the precious crib and whisper:

"Soon, my queen."


End file.
